


Just Hold Me Baby and I'm in Esctasy

by mitochondrials



Series: Bee-I-en-gee-O 2k16 [1]
Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Community: cap_ironman, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 12:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6328021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitochondrials/pseuds/mitochondrials
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve strokes Tony's head to check his temperature, Tony panics.  But it's okay because Clint is here to save the day; and oh yeah, get together snuggling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Hold Me Baby and I'm in Esctasy

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a lyric taken from "[The Way You Make Me Feel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzZ_urpj4As)" by Michael Jackson  
> -  
> Bingo Square S:1 - Cuddling

Tony groaned into his pillow.

His shoulder blades ached, and it felt like he needed someone to step, very brutally, onto his back otherwise he’d never have a straight spine again. Fucking A.I.M. goons, throwing him through lord knows how many brick walls, glass, and debris to last him over a month's worth of medical leave.

“Tony.” Came a sigh. Cap shut the door behind him before quietly asking JARVIS to turn up the radio. It had been three days so far, and obviously Tony, who had always been serious about the whole sleep when I’m dead notion, maybe slept a whole six hours. So Cap, being Cap, took it upon himself to try and help Tony relax.

And, also, very importantly, make sure Tony didn’t try to lock himself in his lab again for half a day, ignoring JARVIS’ threats about mixing coffee with his muscle relaxants.

JARVIS worked around Tony’s own orders by helping Cap find the most effective way to bust open the door.

“I brought some pancakes,” Cap said, sitting at the end of the bed. “Blueberry with butter and maple syrup.”

Tony pushed himself up, slowly turning over to sit using his hips and delicately pressing his back into the headboard. “Is that Sam’s Mother’s homemade cookies I see!?” He beamed.

Cap grinned. “Maybe.” He teased. “You’ve earned a couple, I suppose.”

“Gimme~!” Tony practically whined. Cap happily obliged, their fingers brushing as Tony tore the plate away from him. He stuffed a pancake into his mouth, willing away the flutter of nerves shooting through him from it, causing his fingertips to go slightly numb.

Lately, Cap took to disrupting Tony’s daily routine as much as possible, medical leave or not. Such as, he loved filling Tony's mini fridge with orange juice and apple sauce and baked veggie chips, dumping out all the soda, and especially the freezer loaded full of after battle frozen wine pops without replacing it with any of his green goodness slushies. The goodness slushies were divine, d-fucking-vine.  

He also loved always singling Tony out during team sparring matches. Where, most horribly, he'd ghost his hands over Tony's skin because he knew Tony didn't actually touch anyone that wasn't Pepper, Rhodey, or Happy.  
  
He'd help carry Tony to the med bay, and to the Heli-carrier; and to everywhere, a big happy smile on his face. Sometimes his touch was burning, full force and soft, the two of them concentrating more on making sure they were both okay.

Cap was just so, well, so goddamned handsy. And helpful, and relentless, and completely, without a doubt, easy to love.

Tony willed away the sudden thought with a large bite of cookie. “Delicious. Absolutely delicious. Hard to say which was better.”

“Hey,” Cap mock pouted. “I’d be insulted if I didn’t agree those cookies weren’t one of the best things in this century.”

“Thanks, or something.”

Cap’s gaze turned stoic, tilting forward to brush his fingers along his forehead, checking his temperature. “You’re welcome, Tony. Always. But you know that, right?”

Tony’s breath hitched, the panic setting in. He remembered the first time Pepper ever held him, resting his forehead against her stomach, her hands brushing through his hair. It was his favourite. It was soothing, so gentle. Loving.

Steve’s fingers felt just the same. They were barely touching, gazing up over his hairline. Oh god.

_ Oh god _ .

He had to bite back a sigh.

He couldn’t do this. Steve was his best friend, his best fucking friend yet here he was hyperventilating, butterflies in his stomach, his fingers and face completely numb from excitement and dread all mixed up in a super anxiety cocktail. Best friends didn’t do … they didn’t do whatever Steve was doing. They didn’t pine either like he was always doing.

He couldn’t fucking do this.

So he bolted, pushing Steve off him, making a break towards the bathroom and slamming it shut.   

He made sure to lock it, sliding down to the floor with a grunt. “Great, ruin the best breakfast ever by having a mental breakdown. Absolutely fan-fucking-tatsic, Stark.” Then he forced himself to take deep breaths, clutching a hand over the arc reactor like Bruce had taught him. “JARVIS, promise not to let Capsicle break down my door this time, yeah?”

“Seeing as you’re in actual distress, this time, Sir, certainly.” JARVIS promptly replied.

“Oh cut the crap.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna go lay in the tub I guess till I calm down. Go ahead and let Cap know that, too. Tell him, tell him I’ll be fine after awhile. No need to worry.” He added. JARVIS was silent this time, which was good enough he supposed. He crawled his way to the tub, sliding back the curtain and pulling himself up and over, smacking his shoulder against the side. “Fuck!--I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m all good.”

“Of course, Sir.” Said JARVIS. He dimmed the several of the little lights covering the tub’s stall and ceiling that looked like little stars, one of Tony’s best side inventions to date. Then came the music Cap had originally made JARVIS play from the bedroom, drowning out any potential footsteps, as in, pacing, distressed Steve Roger’s footsteps.

Then he draped the curtain over himself like a makeshift blanket, eventually falling asleep.

 

  
  
The scent of bacon woke him up, where, rather precariously, Clint was dragging a strip of bacon along his nose. "Ah.” He said. “Finally, rise and shine sleeping beauty. Got some peach wrapped bacon, if you want?"

Clint was leaning over him, crouched on the edge of the tub like a fucking bird. It was also so goddamn ridiculous how Clint literally needed to mimic being a bird just because his codename was fucking Hawkeye. Tony snorted.

“Barton, what, in the name of fuck? How did you even get in here?”

“You only stated not to allow the Captain in. You gave no instruction pertaining Mr. Barton.” Came JARVIS witty reply.

“I never thought I’d need to.” Tony snapped.

“Hey, don’t gotta be rude. I did bring you food. Cap was worried about you missing dinner, with your meds and all. So here I am, playing the good Clint. Hulk’s gonna steal all my leftover casserole but I chose to help you instead.” Clint said, tossing a bacon wrapped peach in the air and promptly catching in his mouth.

“Oh, boo-hoo.”

“Not boo-hoo.” Clint tossed another one, catching it instead with his hand and offering it to Tony. “Try. You’ll love, I promise.”

Tony pulled himself forward, crossing his legs to sit. “Yeah, sure. You better have not had poisoned it.”

"You don't think I'd kill Tony, would you JARVIS?"

"Mr. Barton’s generous offering is indeed poison free. Unless perhaps you are still allergic to fruit, Sir.” JARVIS said.

Tony waved JARVIS off, taking a bite. It tasted like heaven,  _ holy shit _ ! “What the fuck, Barton!”

Clint shrugged. “I mean, you already asked that.”

“This is amazing~.”

“Duh,” Clint smirked. “Sometimes happy to serve. But also isn’t this tub is probably killing your back. How haven't you bitched yet, I don't know."

“Mmpf,” Tony replied, his mouth full. “It’s horrible. So horrible, Legolas. Maybe you could carry me back to bed.” He said once he finished swallowing.

Clint burst out laughing, nodding his head. Carrying Tony was a pretty easy task for him.“You owe me, though.” He whispered, rolling Tony up like a burrito. “Like, a new custom set of bows owe me. So gets lot of sleep.” He patted Tony’s shoulder.

“I already slept,” Tony whined. Clint was incredibly nurturing when he wanted to be, because honestly Tony had never felt so super cozy before. But it was true he wouldn’t be falling asleep again for awhile. “I could make you custom bows now?” He asked, hopeful.

“Uh-uh.” Clint sighed. “Not if I don’t wanna be made into a Cappy-fist sandwich. How about a movie, or a game, or something?”

“A movie sounds less dangerous, I’ll wager. I’ve seen you and Thor playing Mario Kart, don’t think I haven’t!”

So Clint picked something called Elvira Mistress of the Dark, which at first sounded like some lame B-list horror movie, but was all in all a pretty decent B-list comedy satirizing B-list horror movies. It had just enough 80’s absurdity to keep Tony interested. Then Clint picked something else entirely called Evil Bong.

That was … that sure as fuck was the most hysterical B-list horror Tony could have ever imagined. When the fuck did Clint have the time to watch all these damn things?

Next thing Tony knew he was groggily opening his eyes, Clint’s body pinning him down in a mass web of blankets, snoring into his collar bone. Oh, and a very sullen looking Steve Rogers sitting across the room in one of the lounge chairs, attempting to be reading something on his tablet.

“Is it morning again? Also, I think Clint drugged me … Um. Hi.” Tony muttered apprehensively.

“It’s roughly 12 am or so,” Steve said softly. “JARVIS said I could come back in and check on you.”

Tony squinted his eyes, now attempting a whisper. “Traitor.”

Steve averted his eyes, his face flushing pink. “Are you feeling better. I didn’t mean to … upset you before.”  

“Yeah. But no, hey, that wasn’t your fault. I just, I-- Look, I'm--.”

“No, Tony. Don’t be sorry. It was my fault. I know better than that, I should have made sure you were okay with me touching you.”

"That is so. Sexual sounding." Tony croaked. He needed to ease the tension.

" _ Tony _ ."

“What? All is forgiven okay? And hey, I ended up having a pretty grand time with Mr.Bed hog here, even. I know you were checking my temperature I just, you know. I--I appreciate, appreciated, the gesture. The you, and the stroking my face thing. I loved it. I loved it so much I freaked the hell out. I have no idea how much you might not realize how much I loved it." He gulped.

Steve gulped, nodding. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really. Cause I mean that. Heavy emphasis on the loved. Extremely. Heavily." Tony continued. "It'd be a huge problem realizing you mostly liked it when I loved it, you know? Yeah, I mean, course. I'm rambling out of my ass so whatever."

“Tony,” Steve said, gently as ever. “I loved it, too. I loved it very, very much. I mean it.”

“ _ Oh _ .” Tony’s eyes widened.

Then Steve was chuckling. “Yeah. _ Oh _ .” He paused. “Can I, er, can I touch you, uh, again?”

“Yes. Of course. Absolutely. Always.” Tony elbowed Clint. “If you don’t mind the extra dead weight over here.” Clint just have a groan, burying his arms under Tony’s torso.

Steve only smiled, crossing the room in a flash, delicately pressing his knee into the mattress, sliding snuggling against Tony’s Clint-free side and cradling his hand around Tony’s neck. “Okay?”

“Amazing,” Tony smiled, tilting his head towards Steve, caressing his forehead against Steve’s. “I know I say that a lot, but yeah. So totally amazing. I mean, I’m sandwiched between my, I guess sorta best friend, and you.”

“Boyfriend?” Steve asked sheepishly, nuzzling Tony’s forehead right back.

“Oh hell yes. Sorta Best friend and Boyfriend. Greatest combination since cookies and milk.” 

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first attempt at pure romance, hehe. I hope it was an enjoyable read, and thank you so much for checking it out~!


End file.
